


Harry Potter and the Things That Never Happened

by Wyste



Series: The Problem Universe [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 11:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18659698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyste/pseuds/Wyste
Summary: Various snippets diverging from the Problem of Potions universe, AU of AUs. Not canon to the series. Also, most of them are quite creepy.





	1. In Which Draco Discovers Comics

In another universe, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were not on speaking terms, because he was a bigot and she had better things to do with her time. In this universe, Draco Malfoy had proved himself not entirely hopeless, and Hermione Granger had taken it upon herself to attempt to explain the muggle world to him.

Which led them to this moment, after the war and associated cleanup, and Draco sitting in a sunny windowseat, looking out on the grounds below, and jumping at every noise, because his father was an understanding man and fantastic father, but that did not extend so far as to be understanding about Draco bringing muggle literature into their family home. 

Draco poked the comic book cover, but the man dressed in tight black-and-grey armor, complete with cape, did not complete his leap. He simply hung in midleap. It looked very uncomfortable. 

…

Rich, beautiful, and philanthropic by day, a knight by night. It had its appeal.


	2. In Which Harry Potter is a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I told you guys these snippets were creepy. Major character death, non-canon to the series.

“So,” Harry said, floating through the doorway, “What should I call you?”

“My lord will do nicely, Harry," said Voldemort.

“I really don’t think so. You’re not my lord. Isn’t that why you killed me in the first place?”

“You would think after you put someone down they would cease engaging in tomfoolery.”

“I could call you Tom.”

“I could decide that my word that young Ronald Weasley would not be harmed was no longer valid to a dead man.”

Harry shut up.

“We will address titles at a later date, Harry.”


	3. In Which Voldemort Finds Out Harry is a Horcrux

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a way to write Voldemort finding out Harry is a Horcrux that doesn't make one want to run for the hills screaming. I chose the 'run for the hills screaming' option. Diverges at the Azkaban beach scene.

All it took was a moment’s inattention.

“Are you ready to die, Harry?” Voldemort asked.

“I’m not looking forward to it,” Harry said. Except he was, of course, and he forgot the key point.

Never, ever lie to Voldemort’s face. The red eyes narrowed, the pale face snarled.

“ _Tell the truth_ , Harry.”

“I’m your last horcrux.”

And then Snape was reaching for his wand and a red flash knocked him unconscious, and another lashed out at Draco Malfoy, and it was just Harry and Voldemort alone on a beach, staring at each other.

Harry dove for his discarded wand. Voldemort snapped a spell, and it flew into his hand. The moment froze, Harry on the ground, Voldemort holding two wands. 

“This requires some rearrangement of my plans. Crucio.”

The pain went on for long enough that Harry was shaking and screaming at the end of it, and found himself quite unable to move.

He felt cool fingers touch his cheek.

“Are you going to cause me trouble, my dear?”

“Always.”

“Forever,” Voldemort agreed. “I take it, then, that this was Dumbledore’s last stratagem?”

Harry didn’t really feel like answering.

“Our prior deal is still in place, Harry. Conversation, or I turn my hand to destruction.”

Harry tasted copper, and felt the need to mention, “Think I bit my tongue.”

Voldemort took his chin in strong fingers, and turned Harry’s face to look at him.

“So you did. Very well. We can always talk later.”

“…if you’re not going to kill me. What about my friends.”

“Do they know? About what you are?”

Harry shook his head, and paused.

“Harry. Tell the truth, or I shall be forced to kill all of them to eliminate the possibility.”

“None of the. Professor Snape. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What a perfect snake he is.”

Voldemort straightened, and Harry caught his sleeve.

“Harry,” Voldemort said gently. 

“Don’t kill him.”

“I must.”

“No.”

“Yes, Harry. It will be quick.”

“He’s the only person who’s ever tried to talk me out of killing myself.”

The snowy beach was silent, and Harry’s numb fingers released the dark lord’s sleeve. Harry could feel Voldemort watching him, the connection between them open and waiting, Voldemort’s emotions open to him if he just reached out and touched – but he was tired, and in pain, and he didn’t trust his own occlumency.

“I will swear not to kill him or have him killed,” Voldemort said, “And you will swear a binding oath not to kill yourself.”

Harry shook his head, minutely.

“My dear sacrificial lamb, that was not a choice. _Stupefy_.”

Red light and then darkness swallowed Harry.

#

It was all quite predictable, after that, to a point. Voldemort in victory was smug, cruel, and mad, and thorough in his attempts both to safeguard Harry and ensure that Harry would cooperate with those measures that protected him.

No, the strange part was Voldemort’s habit of touching him – a brush of cool fingers through hair, a hand on his shoulder to guide him from room to room, a deceptively light grip that left bruises on his wrist when Harry spoke out of turn.

And then there was the audience with Lucius Malfoy. It, too, was predictable, with the Death Eater begging on his knees for the lives of his wife and son. Harry, wandless and invisible, stood aside in the shadows and watched.

“You must explain to me, Lucius, what possessed you. We had such grand plans, you and I.”

“I have no defense, my lord. I thought I had lost your favor, and I was… distraught.”

“Harry,” Voldemort said. “Come here.”

Harry shed his invisibility cloak and approached. Voldemort rested pale fingers against the pulse in Harry’s neck, and seemed to count his heartbeats. Harry met Lucius’ fearful gaze and shrugged a little. He had no idea what was going on, either.

“He helps,” Voldemort explained coolly. “With the madness.”

“My lord?”

“You are too polite to call it that, of course, but it is the case. The over-use of Dementors. The lack of subtlety. Oh, I enjoy the fear, but I never intended this lack of confusion, this certainty that I ruled and that my whim was death. I wanted to be clever. You are clever, Lucius.”

“Not more clever than you, my lord,” Lucius said, in a stronger tone.

“You are as yet untroubled by the forces that grip myself and my dear Bella, at least. A fair trade for power, but you are content to not have power, aren’t you?”

“I seek only to serve you, my lord. To serve our cause.”

“The cause, I believe. Tell me the truth, Lucius, if you value your life.”

“Yes. I feared your madness, my lord. I feared the good we want to do being destroyed by… by your love of battle, of war. I do not need to crush my enemies if I may make use of them.”

“Can I make use of you, Lucius?”

“Always, my lord.”

“Then rise. Be my lieutenant. Be the velvet glove that balances the iron fist. Do that for me, and your wife and son shall be protected with all my might.”

Lucius Malfoy kissed the hem of his lord’s robes, and  rose to assume his duties.

After he left, Harry took a step away from Voldemort.

“I make you less crazy?”

“You do.”

“That’s… spectacularly awful.”

“I am willing to negotiate. You are, after all, part of me.”

Voldemort’s hand circled his wrist, and Harry stared down at the pale, strong fingers.

“Negotiate. What do you want, Harry? You have your family, your friends.”

In hiding, because they weren’t _stupid_ , and nowhere Harry could reach. But alive. They were alive. What did Harry want, what did he want that Voldemort might be willing to give him….

“Hogwarts,” Harry said abruptly. “No torturing the kids. No _killing_ the kids. No Azkaban. An education for muggleborn wizards, and I want to be there to see you’re doing it. I don’t want to hang around here watching you be evil.”

“Come. We can discuss it over dinner. And then, perhaps, a spot of time in the lab?”

They left the interrogation room, and the door closed softly behind them.


End file.
